


Revival of the Fittest

by StormySkiesAhead



Category: Primeval
Genre: (eventually) - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Carolina parakeets!, Cute Kids, Endangered Species, Established Relationship, F/F, F/M, I would die for maddie and sam, M/M, Multi, Other, Species reintroduction, The Conservationist AU, Wildlife Conservation, also the au where nick is friends with the irwins, because why not, it's here babey!!!, more tags as I go along, post ch 1 it's established so?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:00:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23187421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StormySkiesAhead/pseuds/StormySkiesAhead
Summary: “What, exactly, is it that you want me to do?”Stephen chuckles.“How up-to-date is your passport?” he asks, “And how willing are you to drop-kick a poacher for taking sea turtle eggs?”Abby Maitland’s eyes shine with promised violence.“It’s Loggerhead nesting season, isn’t it?”And now, Stephen remembers exactly why that unspoken rule about not questioning Nick’s choices is in place- he’s fantastic at picking them.-The AU where The Team is a bunch of conservationists on a mission. Many other things stay the same.
Relationships: Abby Maitland/Connor Temple, Nick Cutter/Stephen Hart, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	1. debate me, coward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> first chapter- pre-canon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! why am i doing this? bc it's fun

There is one fact that everyone at the Animal Response Coalition knows, from Maya in Records, to David at the front desk, to Doctor Stephen Hart himself in the field research department. That simple fact is thus- if Professor Nicholas Cutter is bringing in someone new, you do not question their presence. Ever.

Well, there are actually  _ multiple _ Rules at the Animal Response Coalition. There’s some obvious ones- donate to anyone’s medical needs, don’t be a jerk, and if you even  _ think _ about buying new fur or any fur substitute made of plastic without doing the proper research first and you’re not allergic to wool, you’re going to get a rather stern talking-to. Most obey them without question- they’re unspoken rules, after all, and nobody wants to gain the Professor’s ire. The man’s a legend in the conservation field, after all.

The new girl… she’s nice enough, Stephen supposes. A bit on the young side to be joining them- she’s an undergrad, after all, one who’s going for a veterinary medicine degree. Most of their younger group are grad students, like Stephen himself was when he’d first joined (well, a grad student starting work on his PhD, a PhD that’s now been done for a while now, thankyouverymuch).

A quick glance at her file is all that Stephen needs to know exactly why this spitfire of a young adult is joining them.

“You…”

“Punched a man in the solar plexus for selling wild-caught endangered snakes, yeah. He was selling  _ St. Vincent Blacksnakes _ , would you have just stood there?”

“No,” Stephen replies, “Which is exactly why you’re  _ here _ . No matter how much you want to punch the animal trafficker, the circus owner, the endangered animal collector with a dozen tigers in his backyard, you can’t do it. You  _ can’t _ get angry, not when it’s the animals’ lives that are on the line. But you’ve got drive and energy, which is what we want in an advocate.”

The young woman’s eyes shine brightly.

“What, exactly, is it that you want me to do?”

Stephen chuckles.

“How up-to-date is your passport?” he asks, “And how willing are you to drop-kick a poacher for taking sea turtle eggs?”

Abby Maitland’s eyes shine with promised violence.

“It’s Loggerhead nesting season, isn’t it?”

And now, Stephen remembers exactly why that unspoken rule about not questioning Nick’s choices is in place- he’s  _ fantastic _ at picking them.

* * *

Connor Temple is a sweet, outgoing young man studying computational biology. He’s kind, and gentle with the parrots that Stephen brings in on their way to rehab programs from time to time, and he’s still an undergrad, like Abby is. He’s brought his friends along with him- Tom, ever the conspiracy theorist, but one who sinks his teeth deeply into investigative journalism after having a few  _ very _ long conversations with the Professor, and Duncan, who only ever seems to want to help.

Connor Temple also has a bit of a hero-worshipping problem. No matter how sweet such people are, Stephen knows well enough that Nick’s a bit irritated if people don’t drop their hero worship soon enough. Stephen can’t fault the kid, though- if you’re working with someone who used to do TV spots with  _ Steve Irwin, _ he can respect stars in your eyes.

But Connor does good work, and slips into the group seamlessly, like he was born to it, and it just took a little bit of growing for it to fit right.

His fingers are quick, and it’s not just computational  _ biology _ that he’s got talent in.

The best thing that Connor has on his side, however, is his clean record (and the fact that he’s a white cis man, which is the closest any of them are going to get to having a white heterosexual cis man with a clean record in this office), which means that he’s responsible for bailing everyone out when they’re pointlessly arrested for protesting. Or, occasionally breaking someone’s face over wildlife trafficking.

“I kicked a man in the balls last year for trying to take turtle eggs,” Abby says to Connor, as they’re making their way back to the office. In the rearview mirror, Stephen can see the exact moment where Connor gets invested in the story, and Abby gets invested in impressing him. Stephen’s seen this pattern before, with Abby- she  _ likes _ to impress anyone she’s interested in, from Madeline down the hall to Andrew at the grocery store, but this time, she seems more invested than usual.

After the next few times it happens (quietly, so as to not tip Connor off), Stephen gives her a thumbs up- she’s doing great, for someone not so used to flirting. Abby gives him a thumbs up in return, while Connor begins to prattle about the evolutionary links between differing turtle species and the points where they diverged in history. Stephen can see the exact moment where something softens in Abby’s eyes. Something warm rolls through his chest, at that.

It’s sweet.

It reminds him of listening to Nick get  _ really  _ into it, before the breakdowns, and the angry tears, and the deep, terrible knowing that no matter how hard they fight, they’ll still be too late for so many of them, that they’re already too late.

When he’d first joined, Stephen loved to paint. He still does, but now, his subjects are different- those lost for no reason other than attempting to coexist with humanity and those they bring along with them. He’s lost the ability to paint human faces, now, he thinks-

Now, he paints the wide-open jaws of a thylacine, or the bright feathers of a Carolina Parakeet or Glaucous Macaw, or the scales and empty eyes of the world’s loneliest tortoise.

With a start (and a tap of the brakes), Stephen realizes one key, world-shattering fact- the same soft way that Connor looks back at Abby, now, that  _ thank you so much, i love you _ look that Stephen recognizes in any eyes but those directed at him, that’s the same way Nick looks, in a pause in one of his longer rants.

The same soft, sweet, grateful,  _ loving _ look when Stephen snorts at one of his little jokes, or goes on his own tangent, or-

And he hasn’t even told him about Helen, Nick’s ex-wife when it happened or no. He can’t risk that, not now, not when-

Stephen doesn’t realized he’s pulled over and begun to panic until Abby’s hand is on one shoulder and Connor’s is on the other, and he’s already begun to calm.

Things like that are strange, to him. Despite the uncomfortable realization, Stephen feels lighter than he’s been in oh-so-long, like he actually  _ trusts _ these people that he’s not known long more than most other people in his life.

“Hey,” Abby says, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Stephen does.

* * *

He finally has that conversation with Nick late that night, the one he’s been dreading so much. Maybe it’s the tears, maybe it’s the way that Stephen curls in on himself, head down, but Nick doesn’t yell, even a little bit.

Instead, he slings one arm over Stephen’s shoulders, and they slowly go back to normal. It does take quite some time, but it’s not as awful as Stephen was expecting it to be, if he’s being completely honest about it.

And he still has Abby and Connor to talk to, and Connor’s friends, and it seems like he may not be a shut-in for the foreseeable future, now.

Three weeks after he admits to his wrongdoing, he wakes up on Nick’s couch, five concerned pairs of eyes looking over him- Nick, obviously, but also, Abby, Connor, Tom, and Duncan- and the worst headache he’s ever had in his entire life.

“What… happened?” he asks. There was definitely some kind of party last night- Nick tends to host those whenever he gets the news another condor chick has hatched.

Stephen understands. If he was personally involved in the revival of the California Condor, he’d throw a party every time there was a positive development regarding the species, too.

“You got really drunk and cried for like, four hours,” Duncan replies in a deadpan voice, “Connor called Tom and I here because he thought he or I might’ve spiked the food Connor brought. We didn’t. You were just… concerningly sad.”

_ ‘That tracks,’ _ Stephen thinks, attempting to get up, and getting five pairs of hands pushing him back down to the couch for his efforts.

“Alcohol is a depressant,” he replies.

“No, you were bringing up a lot,” Abby says, “So we decided, while you’re temporarily incapacitated, we’re going to talk about it. Tom and Duncan can leave. Connor and I can leave too, if you want, but you’re talking about it with  _ someone _ .”

“Fine. Nick, Connor, Abby stay, Tom, Duncan go.”

“You’ve got it, mate,” Tom replies, “I’ve got to follow up on a lead for class, anyways.”

“What  _ lead,” _ Duncan asks, “Since when is your journalism class telling you to follow actual stories? The people want to  _ know, _ Tom, and by the people, I mean me.”

Stephen snorts, and sits up, rubbing his brows.

“Here,” Connor says, “Drink some juice.”

“This some hangover cure you heard about in passing that I’m going to hate?” Stephen asks before drinking. Connor snorts.

“There’s no gimmick to a hangover cure. You just need liquids, and your electrolyte levels need to go back up. It’s just a smoothie, Stephen.”

“Thought you don’t get drunk often,” Stephen jokes in reply, before he dunks back the smoothie. It’s  _ good. _ Connor was right.

“I don’t,” Connor replies, at the same time Abby butts in with “He doesn’t.”

“Then why-”

“Because, Stephen, I worry about my friends. I think we might need to restrict your access to alcohol.”

“Oh, I don’t drink,” Stephen replies, “Might be why it messes with me more than it should.”

“Before we start digging,” Nick cuts in, “We’ve been invited back to protect nest sites in the Mediterranean this year. Apparently, Abby’s willingness to pick a fight has garnered us a bit of a social media following, so we’ll have more volunteers this year. Is your passport up to date?”

Stephen grins.

“What do you take me for, an  _ amateur?” _ he asks. The rest of the little group smile, eyes on each other. With a bit of a start, Stephen realizes that this is going to be the first time Connor’s been involved in boots-on-the-ground work, especially for a long period of time.

Stephen knows he’s excited.

He leans back, and cracks his back, ready for whatever is dug up.

He thinks.

* * *

The beach is quiet, when the team arrives to set up cameras. They've got well over a dozen new volunteers this time, mostly determined locals ready to protect the wildlife of home, though a few have shipped out from various nations across the world- a few from Central and South America, the most out of any extra continent represented, are familiar with the process, having protected turtle nests back home, before.

Some of the kids are as young as eighteen, recent high school graduates with passion in their eyes.

The first night they're out on the beach, protecting these vital new turtle nests, Nick asks him to dinner.

It goes rather well, he thinks. They keep on with it, after all.

“You know,” Stephen whispers, watching the waves roll in, exhausted, knowing poachers can't be very near, “I think I love you.”

“You think I don't know that?” Nick replies into his hair, scanning the beach beyond them, Stephen knows, “I've known I love you too for so long, I've almost forgotten what it felt like not to.”

Stephen laughs.

“We've not known each other for  _ that _ long,” he replies, and Nick chuckles.

“Well, I have to say-”

Stephen jolts, eyes wide. There's movement, in the sand.

“Hurry,” he says, and waves over to Connor and Abby and some of the new folks- Eva, Sofia, and Rafael, he thinks their names are, who race to them, flashlights off, staring at the sand.

Little dark shapes work their ways out of the sand, across the beach. There are no predators here, not tonight, not when they've been chasing them off for weeks.

“Hello, little things,” Nick says, “Now, it's time for the hardest part, but you can do it. I  _ know _ you can.”

As it turns out, someone’s filmed this night, with a high-quality night camera catching Nick in the face just right as he re-orients the hatchlings and drives off seagulls.

The sun rises long before they're done, and Nick finally notices the camera. Maybe it's the fact that he'd had one of those Animal Planet shows of his own, once (not that long ago, actually- only a few years, right before Stephen had gotten his doctorate), maybe it's the educator in him, but he's always done well with a camera in his face.

“These,” he says, “are Loggerhead Sea Turtles. Now, you might see more of these in other parts of the world, but a sight like  _ this _ in Europe, well-”

The unscripted bit of pure, energetic educator goes up on Nick’s YouTube, the one they haven't used since the Animal Planet show got cancelled. Stephen ribs him, after they're back in the States, about how popular it’s gotten.

They decide, together, that releasing more of these might actually be a good idea. Sofia and Rafael join the office properly, the former as a marine biology student studying in the UK and the latter (as it turns out, Rafael is her older brother, who knew?) as an on-call entomologist.

And… it’s good. They get calls, from time to time, and they’ve begun to get  _ fans _ , of all things, children who wave at Nick hesitantly, chattering nonstop about turtles or birds or something else in the same vein with a little bit of prodding.

* * *

It’s five o’clock in the morning, when they get the call. Stephen rolls over, and groans, and checks Nick’s phone for him.

“They want you on the Tonight show,” he says, “I think you should bring a badger. We still do most of our work at Marwell, they’d let you bring animals, right?”

“They’re calling because I was friends with Steve Irwin, not because of anything I, specifically, can bring to the table, and you know it,” Nick replies. Stephen snorts, and sits up.

“If they’d called years ago, they would have. But you’ve been doing your own work, and you’ve got the channel, and you still do educational programs at Marwell, and this is a big audience, Nick. It’s worth it.”

Nick rolls his eyes, but is clearly considering it. He breaks out into a smile.

“Yeah,” he says, “I’ll get some of the invasive birds. I have an idea.”

* * *

The TV spot goes rather well, up until the host starts asking Nick about his personal life, and he is… honest, to say the least.

“Well, actually, I’ve been seeing a wonderful man for quite a while now. At home, watching this, he’s probably going ‘Nick, what are you doing.’”

Stephen isn’t saying that. They’d agreed on coming out like this, potentially, ever since the TV spot was considered an option.

“Really?”

“Not entirely, we did discuss this beforehand. You’ve met him, actually, Dr. Stephen Hart. I was a rather young professor, and he was the only person who used to call me out when I had nothing to back up any of the points I made, so he was sort of my only friend. And then we started working together, after he got his doctorate, and he went in front of people, and- I’m decent, at the whole public speaking thing, but he’s  _ incredible. _ And maybe it was that, maybe it was half a hundred things, maybe it was the way he laughs at the stupid jokes I make, but...”

“Well, good luck to you,” the host says, but Stephen doesn’t really care, because he’s already started to tear up. There’s a few congratulations on the successful coming-out (like Stephen’s Pride art hadn’t been the only thing featured on the channel prior to their new episode format, and like they hadn’t been mildly public about it beforehand, honestly), and, of course, a few of the nastier comments, but those are always easily ignored.

He, of course, replies to the few congratulations from the Irwin family- they’re practically conservationist royalty, and Terri  _ is _ friends with Nick, after all, even if it’s friends of a more distant sort.

He switches the banner to the office team at London Pride, and feels good about it.

_ “Hey,” _ Nick says, late that night,  _ “Are you alright?” _

“Yeah,” Stephen replies with a bit of a laugh, “The brats are having kittens about it, though.”

By  _ the brats, _ Stephen obviously means their little squadron of young adults, though at barely thirty and late twenties, Stephen’s not sure they wouldn’t count as such, too.

_ “I’m sure they are,” _ Nick hums. Stephen can  _ hear _ the smile in his voice,  _ “I heard we got congratulations from the Irwins. Are they pretending they weren’t aware of this months ago?” _

“Yeah, they are. Sofia’s running PR, right now, and distracting people with photos of you and California Condor fledgelings. A great deal of people are confused as to who you actually  _ are _ , but… well. Things are going great, hun.”

They really, really are.

Stephen thinks, for a moment, that this must be the calm before the storm, that something's going to happen, that something’s going to pop out of the woodwork or someone’s going to spook them or  _ something _ of the sort, because they can’t be this happy, right? Stephen’s never let himself be happy like this, he’s never let himself feel calm.

He’s always strung up on a wire, taught and nervous, never loose and energetic, reveling in the sight of a Steller’s Sea Eagle taking flight in northern Japan or manatees below the water. And he is happy, and calm, and working on his projects, now.

As his mum always said, if you find a person that makes you  _ that _ happy, and you want to make them that happy in turn, you ask them to marry you. Fortunately for Stephen, Nick happens to say yes.

Their first daughter, Madeline Cutter, is born just a little under a year after their rather quick wedding, and Stephen wonders if this is what it feels like, for a heart to grow.

He’s pretty sure it is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so i might have made myself sad thinking about the carolina parakeet and a dozen+ other recently extinct species. instead of hyperfocusing on coronavirus, bc i think the rest of y'all have that covered, i decided to write a primeval au where they questionably use time travel to bring species back from the dead- hence the title, "Revival of the Fittest".  
> Why is Helen not married to Nick when she runs? because there has to be a reason they don't *immediately* go to Nick when they're looking in the Forest of Dean, and them having been divorced for longer than they were married does track. why were they divorced by that point? i don't know, i'm not that detailed, I'm just writing this thing.  
> thank you my writing playlist for helping me work on this... and thanks to my school district for doing the right thing and closing! i have too much time on my hands now


	2. back from the dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> haha yes! there is more than one chapter in this fic! Aka, I'm starting us off with the Dodo episode because that seemed like the most thematically relevant one... and the one most likely to be the intro episode for this version of the team.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> why did chapter 3 take so long i loved writing it....

Their younger daughter, Samantha, is born about sixteen months before Stephen’s entire world seems to fall down around his ears. Well, most of his world. The girls are still fine.

Maddie is walking- and well, too, they’re both so proud. It does mean they focus their conservation efforts closer to home, but working with White-Tailed and Golden Eagles in the UK is rather rewarding in and of itself.

They both get a plethora of well-wishes and parental advice after Maddie’s born, but it calms down after Sam- which is good, because they’re exhausted, with two children under the age of three, and active jobs. Stephen doesn’t think he’s gotten a good night’s sleep in a month.

That, of course, changes just a little bit when, about six months before Maddie turns four, Tom bursts into the office, halfway to screeching.

No, it really starts a few months before that, right about when Abby brings the weirdest lizard that Stephen has ever had the good grace to see into the office. His name is Rex, apparently, and she takes good care of him. Connor does, too.

Abby’s in her veterinary residency, now, at Marwell, and Connor’s just finished his Master’s, which means that, between them, Duncan (who now works with the National Wildlife Crime Unit, often doing undercover work, and who’s the primary source of new animals that need help), Tom (a wildlife journalist, now), Stephen and Nick themselves, and Sofia and Rafael, they should be able to tell exactly what that lizard is.

But no, no. No, they can’t. Well over a dozen experts in a single building, plus everyone they work with when they do their work at Marwell, and they can't figure out what this lizard is.

“Rex  _ looks _ like a Coelurosauravus, sort of,” Nick says, rubbing the bridge of his nose, while Stephen bounces Sam on his lap and Maddie stares hungrily at the dirt in the planter pots again.

“Hold your daughter and stop worrying about this,” Stephen says, “Also, the Coelurosauravus has been extinct for hundreds of millions of years, so it  _ can't  _ be that.”

Nick smiles at Sam’s sort-of toothy grin, and sets her on the table in front of him.

“Uncle Connor’s talked to people he knows, too, and the genes aren't like anything he's seen, but  _ you _ know what Rex looks like, don't you? He looks like a  _ friend.” _

Stephen snorts, while Maddie, not to be forgotten, enthusiastically agrees. The macaw they're currently fostering until he can be passed off to the mother-daughter rehab team that Stephen’s met in passing gives him an incredulous look.

“Oh, you'll understand when you have kids,” he says. He's talking to a bird. He's officially gone mad.

But it's the nice sort, that much is for certain. He gets out a camera, to take a photo. They won't be this small forever, after all.

* * *

“Cutter!” Tom shouts, as he vaults over one of the tables into the round room. Stephen’s head jerks up.

“Didn’t mean you,” Tom says, “But you’ll work. You know that shady government enterprise I’ve been following around since Abby found Rex?”

“Yeah?” Stephen asks, “Were you looking for Nick? He’s home with the girls right now, but I could call him and we could switch out.”

“No, I said you’ll do, and you will. I think they’ve been dealing in large animals. The same people- a man named James Lester, as far as I can tell, and his underlings- have been involved in several large-scale incidents. There was the Forest of Dean, with that boy who said he saw the dinosaur, one with large spiders in the Tube a few months ago, and at least three a few weeks ago involving one young woman who was nearly charged with murder, witnesses that said they saw a massive lizard, and a woman with a large flightless bird in her cellar.”

“You’ve been busy, Tom,” Stephen laughs.

“Not as much as I could be, Doctor Cutter. Now, let’s  _ go _ .”

“Right, right. Duncan’s in the car, then?”

“We couldn’t get a warrant for a group that doesn’t exist, and they might be government anyways, but he’s there to legitimize us. I think they might have animals with them, again.”

“I’ll grab a carrier,” Stephen says, “The one for large dogs should work. And gloves, just in case. You’ve got on long sleeves?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a thicker coat in the van, why?”

“Never know what a wild animal could be carrying,” Stephen replies, “For all you know, it could be anything. Same reason you don’t deal with any wild animal without proper protection. Remember the rabid bat that you and Duncan found last year?”

“Yeah,” Tom says with a shudder, “Was right after we moved into the new place, too.”

“Yeah, could be anything. Alright, let’s ship out.”

Tom snorts.

“Not that far,” he says, “We’ve been keeping an eye out for them, the new thing is still in Central London, nowhere else.”   
“How do you know that?” Stephen asks, eyebrows raised. Tom shuffles his feet.

“We… may have put a little tracker on one of the soldiers’ favorite gear bags,” he says. Stephen raises his eyebrows further, and nods at him to continue. Tom flushes, and Stephen wisely decides to drop the subject.

* * *

“Alright,” he says, “So, what, we’re waiting for-”

“We’re waiting for Tom’s new coffee buddy to slip up and show us where the animals are,” Duncan says. Stephen blinks.   
“I thought-”

“No, I’m just embarrassed I had to resort to pretending to be someone’s friend to get information out of them,” Tom replies, “I wouldn’t-”

“He wouldn’t do that,” Duncan interrupts, “Now, what do you want us to-”

There’s an odd noise from the side of the building they’re parked in front of. Stephen leans forwards, and grabs his gloves and the carrier from the back of the van.

“What is it?”

It’s a heavy, massive dark bird, with a black head and a dark brown body. It’s a bird that Stephen knows well, one he’s painted himself, before, in the past, a known entity. His breath catches in his throat.

The Dodo runs blindly into the carrier, and Stephen slams the door, and places it almost reverently into the back of the van. It’s just about all he can do to not have a full-on breakdown.

He calls Nick.

“Hun,” he says, “I think you need to come into the office. I’ve got to show you something.”

By the time he hangs up, Stephen realizes he’s crying- or, rather, has just started to cry. He stares at the dodo in his backseat, and wonders at the nature of the world.

“Maybe it’s a biological weapon, or-” Tom starts.

“They’ve been working on cloning dodos for a while now,” Stephen says, “People are wondering whether or not it’s ethical. Maybe they decided to go through with it anyways, maybe-”

Or, it could be something else, something halfway to magic, something Stephen won’t allow himself to hope for, something he’s not  _ allowed _ to hope for since his mother calmly explained why time travel wasn’t possible, and never would be, back when he’d still been small. But their compass is going mad, and  _ something _ strange has happened, here.

And Stephen finds himself staring through the bars in the front of the cage, grinning like a madman.

“So,” Duncan says, clearly aching for conversation, “I heard Abby and Connor tried out a new restaurant last weekend. Did they tell you if it was any good?”

“Oh, we gave the suggestion. Good couple’s place. Figured we’d organize a nice night for them since they babysat the girls the weekend before.”

“Now, why don’t you let  _ us _ babysit your daughters?” Tom wonders aloud, “Both the Reyes siblings have-”

“And they each hated it and said they’d never do it again because Maddie is a menace-”

“And Connor and Abby keep doing it as child practice, but we’ve never babysat.”

“That’s because,” Stephen says, stretching out in the van, “You both treat children like small adults that can take care of themselves. They are not. My children are both toddlers, one under the age of two. They just can’t be treated like small adults. Maybe when Maddie’s eight, or so.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Duncan says with a grin. Stephen thinks this relatively mundane conversation is the only thing keeping any of them from panicking over the fact that there is a  _ Dodo _ in a  _ dog carrier _ in the back of the van they’re sitting in.

There’s something odd, about its behavior, though. It’s unusually reactive to light, and there’s something wrong in its eyes, something that reminds him of rabid bats he’s seen in the past. Stephen tenses. There’s a million things that could be causing this, but-

He sighs, and shakes his head. It could be, even, that there’s something wrong with the cloning process to begin with, and it’s something inherent to the animal. But safe is so much better than sorry, so he informs Tom and Duncan about the potential issue, and pulls out the longest pair of eagle gloves he has, the ones he’d been lent by one of his eagle rehabber colleagues, and prepares for the worst.

* * *

“Is that a  _ dodo _ ?” Nick asks, clearly both befuddled and excited as he peers into the carrier.

“Yeah. Who's watching the girls?”

“Actually, the rehabilitator offered. Well, her daughter did.”

“Oh,” Stephen replies, “She's old enough to babysit?”

“Yes, indeed she is. Now, a  _ dodo _ , Stephen? Where on Earth did you find this?”

“A car park in Central London,” Stephen replies with a snort, “and I wouldn't have found it without Tom and Duncan’s help, so there's that.”

The two young men look like they're about to start preening like a pair of oversized doves with their sheer amount of pride in themselves. Stephen thinks, to be honest, that it's a completely valid thought.

“Hey,” he says to his husband, who looks like he's about to try to pet the dodo, “No touching. Take a better look, first.”

The dodo isn't reacting like a large, ground-dwelling bird should. Stephen would know- he  _ has _ worked with cassowaries before. And emus. And ostriches. And rheas, and kiwis, and-

Well, this is going to turn into a  _ list _ soon enough if he doesn’t stop himself, but the point is, Stephen knows that this bird isn’t right in the head.

Nick seems to realize this too, jerking his hand back.

“What are we thinking, here?” he whispers. Stephen shrugs his shoulders.

“I don’t know. It could be anything, but I’m most certain it’s either some sort of infection, or it’s some kind of parasite.”

The dodo lunges at the bars of the crate. Everyone moves back.

“So, what, exactly, were you researching when you all found this thing?” Nick asks. Tom and Duncan stare back at him, wide-eyed, while Connor, Abby, and the Reyes siblings run into the room. It’s not just them, though.

No, it’s clearly spread to the rest of the office, which means there’s just about a dozen experts, a few more undergraduate and graduate students, and various other staff in the room, all staring at a clearly sick animal that  _ shouldn’t be alive _ in a large dog carrier on the desk. Stephen tries to usher them out of the room, to let the dodo calm down before it upsets itself.

That’s about the time when the dodo dies.

“Alright,” Stephen says, in a desperate attempt to get the rest of the core team to not panic, “Let’s do an autopsy. Rafael, you’re going to be looking for parasites-”

“I couldn’t tell you as much as a general invertebrate specialist, but sure.”

“Sofia, you’re out for this one. Connor, take samples for DNA synthesis. Abby, you’re still in residency but you’re the closest thing we have to a proper vet, so you’ll be leading the autopsy.”   
“On it.”

“Nick, you and I are assisting.”

As it turns out, they don’t really have to go  _ looking _ for parasites. A rather ugly one finds them, a big, tapeworm-like thing that Stephen’s genuinely surprised managed to fit inside the dodo’s body.

“I think I can speak for all of us when I say: wow, gross,” Connor mutters, having already gotten his samples, staring uncomfortably at the parasite.

“Well, now we know why the dodo died,” Nick replies, “Poor thing was probably starving to death.”

“This does raise a new question, though,” Stephen hums. Nick locks eyes with him, and nods. Stephen cedes the floor of the autopsy room to him.

“If the dodo had a large, well-developed parasite, one none of us are quite familiar with- it’s certainly rounder and more active than your average cestoid, isn’t it- it’s quite possible it was wild-caught and brought here, which raises a whole new slew of questions.”

Three pairs of eyes stare at them widely. Rafael pushes his glasses up with clean, still-unused gloves.

“I think,” he says, “I think we need to start having conversations of our own with Tom’s sources. Something  _ big _ is happening here.”

Stephen has to agree.

* * *

“So,” Stephen says, “Mind introducing us to your source? The person that you bugged?”

Tom squirms in his seat, just a little bit.

“She’s my cousin,” he says, “And I don’t want to get her in trouble-”

Nick slides next to Stephen, attempting to loom if at all possible.

“There was a parasite, a large one, in the dodo’s corpse,” he says, voice as calm as ever, the sort of steadiness that Stephen’s rarely ever been able to match, “Your cousin could have been exposed to it, had there been any other individuals with the parasites. It’s in our best interest, and hers, and the best interest of whoever she works for to be completely clear about what in  _ hell _ is going on.”

Tom swallows, and makes the call. Nick steps back, and straightens.

“Yes. Is this Katherine? Yeah, well, we’ve got to talk about something. I’m sorry. Well, you know how I work as an investigative journalist in environmentalism? I usually work with the Animal Response Coalition, yeah. Yeah, I know him. No, yeah, it’s about that, Kat. To be fair, you have been acting  _ very _ shady recently. No, Duncan didn’t put me up to this- Kat, they’ve got a dead dodo in their autopsy room, and I  _ know _ you had something to do with it.”

They’re swarmed by Special Forces personnel within minutes.

“Well,” a man who, if it hadn’t been for his commanding presence and well-kept, clearly expensive suit, Stephen might have passed on any given day without paying him any notice, says, “I do believe you have something of ours.”

Something halfway to magic happens, in their reception room, with narrowed eyes and pressed-together shoulders. Every one of these people are Nick’s old choices, people he’d picked by hand from protests and universities and projects, and every one of them, Stephen had introduced, had trained in the little idiosyncracies of working at the ARC.

And every one of these people shares one thing in common- they care about each other, fiercely.

“I’d like to ask a question, first,” Nick says, “Have any of your personnel been bitten by one of the dodos? A flesh wound, not just contact on clothing that didn’t go through.”

No hands go up, and the man in the bespoke suit shakes his head. Nick sighs in relief, and his shoulders drop.

“Good,” he says, “There was a parasite in the dodo we found. A large one, similar to a tapeworm, likely transmitted by bite, and transmissible to other large animals, such as humans.”

The man in the suit’s face goes pale at that. Clearly, he hadn’t considered such things. Stephen steps forwards.

“Look,” he says, “We don’t know what’s going on, but we do know this: you’ve been dealing with large, unknown animals for several months, specifically animals that have been harmful to the public. You’ve also not been taking proper precautions with wild animals This is likely painful to hear, but when it comes to large wild animals, you most likely don’t know what you’re doing. We’re offering to help.”

Nick raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t contradict him.

“Professor Cutter, yes? And this is your husband?” the man in the suit asks, and Stephen and Nick both nod, “I- may we see the parasite, first?”

There’s panic, at the edge of his voice. He might actually be amenable to whatever it is they decide to propose, might actually back down. In the corner of his eye, Stephen can see who he assumes is Kat getting into an argument with Tom.

“And you’re sure,” Stephen says, voice quiet, “That none of the other potentially affected dodos escaped?”

“No,” the man mumbles, eyes wide, “I suppose we can’t be.”

Nick hisses through his teeth.

“So, press conference, or-”

“You’ll have to be briefed,” the man says, “We can’t have word of this getting out. I suppose we’ll have to tell any of your staff that were here today, too, absorb them at least partially into our own projects. Your team is-”

“Us, Abby Maitland, a veterinarian, Connor Temple, a computational biologist, Rafael Reyes, an entomologist, and Sofia Reyes, a marine biologist, though the usual is us, Abby, and Connor,” Stephen replies.

“Good,” the man hisses, like he’s in pain, “Good. That’s good.”

Stephen doesn’t know what’s going through his head right now, but it must be anything but.

“You mind explaining what’s going on?” Nick finally asks, as they’re being swept into one of the educational rooms. A military type- takes the floor.

“My name is Captain Tom Ryan. Several months ago, we were called to a disturbance in the Forest of Dean. Compasses were going haywire, livestock was going missing, and, most notably, a schoolteacher was killed in an altercation with a large carnivore. We were able to identify the large carnivore as some sort of stem mammal- a  _ large _ one. We also discovered a doorway through time. Over the last several months, we’ve discovered more and more of these anomalies. Sir, would you like to take the floor?”

“My name is James Lester,” suit-man says, “And we  _ need _ your help.”

The room is only silent for about three seconds before it bursts into a cacophony of noise. Stephen finds himself grinning with pride at how fast the ARC volunteers. Captain Ryan brings something over to Lester- one of their logo patches, he thinks.

“Well,” Stephen can barely make out over the noise, “At least we’ll save quite a bit on rebranding, won’t we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *cracks knuckles*  
> Alright, so I've got a plan here, and y'all will see that in Chapter Three more than this one. I love Maddie and Sam by the way.  
> So, there's a couple reasons that the ARC team has Rex (and also has more members, but they're not as plot-vital as the core four is, I just like them) but isn't aware of the anomalies. They do a lot of exotic pet rehomings, and Rex happened a couple of days before the whole anomaly issue. They love him. Also, since Connor is very busy with his work for the ARC, Tom is the bigger conspiracy theory man, and he's more on top of possible environmental abuse rather than large carnivores.  
> Tom and Duncan *will* show up with a fair bit of frequency (I think- I'm still in the relatively early stages of this fic). they're dating. they *will* take care of various animals throughout the course of this story. they are very protective of the ARC team and Tom has gotten arrested at least once.  
> rehabber + rehabber's daughter are actually a depowered version of rebecca and shoshannah from the speak series, because i like to think they exist and would be happy in this universe. they are not plot relevant AT ALL aside from providing occasional offscreen childcare. they won't even show up by name in this fic, and frankly, they could be literally anyone else, but I like the idea of shosh taking care of toddlers!


	3. blot out the sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hmm... what is this chapter about? it couldn't be... unless...  
> (aka, if you've heard some of the famous phrases about Certain recently extinct species, you might know what's up)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is nice

_ This is a recurring dream. Stephen knows it well, but still, he finds himself drawn deeper into it. _

_ He sees his daughters, older than they are now, but still recognizable, with what they’ve inherited from Nick and their biological mother. _

_ They play on the beach, weaving through the rocks, peering into tidepools, laughing. Maddie splashes Sam with water from one of them. Sam calls him over, and seems to decide he’s being too slow. She shows him a starfish she’s caught, while Maddie points out an octopus in one of the other pools. _

_ He smiles, gently, feeling the cool ocean air against his face, the roughness of the rock beneath the algae scraping against his palms. _

_ Something’s changed, though. Stephen can’t see Nick, not now (though he certainly hears him), but he does see something else, as he looks up into the air. _

_ The sky darkens, a thousand, a million quick shadows that dart across the landscape in one long, twisting column, a sight that Stephen knows in his soul but has never seen with his own two eyes. A bird ducks down to the ground, a bird that Stephen knows. _

_ A passenger pigeon. _

_ “Hello,” he says to the little dove, “I know you.” _

“I know you, too,” _ the pigeon says, in Nick’s voice. _

Stephen wakes up.

* * *

“Are you alright?” Nick asks, over breakfast, “You seemed worried, when I woke up, but I didn’t want to wake you.”

“I’m alright,” Stephen says. Maddie clings to one of his legs, chattering about the birds she’d seen outside her window this morning, “I had the beach dream again.”

“Ah, yes, the one you say predicts Maddie’s hair is going to darken when she gets older,” Nick replies with a smile.

“No,” Stephen mumbles under his breath, “It was different this time. Just- strange. Don’t worry about it.”

“Really?” Nick asks, and says something else, but he sounds so far away right now, that Stephen cannot hear him, because there’s something strange through the kitchen window.

Stephen sees  _ Helen. _ As in, Professor Helen Ambrose, as in Nick’s ex, as in, has been missing for eight and a half- almost nine now, actually- years.

“What?”

Stephen’s pressed his face up against the glass. No, definitely Helen, and this is definitely bizarre.

“Something strange is going to happen today,” Stephen says, “I think. I don’t know. I saw a passenger pigeon in my dream last night, maybe that means something.”

“Maybe,” Nick replies, “I’ve heard they’re looking for a new facility, right now. I’ve also heard Lester is trying to get us to rename to the Anomaly Research Centre, at least on the facility’s walls.”

There’s something even stranger than Helen in the air today, though. Stephen won’t fall so deep into superstition as to say that he feels it in his bones, but he… does. He just  _ knows _ something odd is going to happen today, something that might shake him to his core, but he doesn’t know  _ what. _

“Nick,” Stephen says, “Is someone scheduled to babysit the girls today?”

“Yes, the rehabber’s daughter, again,” Nick replies, “Why-”

“We’re going to get a call,” Stephen says, “We’re going to get a call today.”

“Alright,” Nick replies, though his eyes follow Stephen’s movements as he paces, filled with concern.

“I’m fine,” Stephen says, and shakes his head, “I thought I saw- nevermind.”

* * *

“Good lord,” says Lester, “Aren’t we supposed to be evacuating people, not bringing more aboard?”

“You asked for our team, you’re getting our team,” Stephen replies, “Nick and I barely managed to get a babysitter for this, it’d better be worth it.”

“A man’s  _ died _ ,” Lester growls, “Though I do have to agree on the babysitter front, you two have toddlers, yes?”

“Yes, two under four.”

“May the odds be ever in that poor babysitter’s favor,” Lester replies, “I have three of my own, I understand the feeling.”

“Oh,” Stephen hums, “I didn't know.”

“I do try to keep my private life  _ private, _ as I am sure you understand.”

“Stephen! Come take a look at this!” Nick hollers from across the field. Stephen shrugs at Lester, then runs over to his husband, currently inspecting bloodstains in the grass.

“Have you taken a look at the body, yet?” Stephen asks him, “It looks like someone set a pack of piranhas on the poor man.”

Nick turns, and snaps his fingers in agreement.

“That's exactly what it looks like. Many, many small predators, rather than one large carnivore. Piranhas would make sense if there had been an anomaly in the water and he'd been  _ found _ in the water, but he wasn't.”

“You're right on that front. Now, what kind of small carnivores hunt that efficiently in packs?”

Both men stand, staring blankly at the bloodstained grass, as they wait for inspiration to arrive.

“The only thing I'm thinking right now is piranha, to be honest,” Stephen mumbles with mild embarrassment, “I mean, there are a few terrestrial carnivores that could do such a thing, but their marks on the body would be massively different, and-”

“And there aren't any tracks.”

“No, there aren't,” Stephen replies, before narrowing his eyes, and crouching.

“Well, actually- Nick, take a look at these. What do those look like to you?”

Nick’s gasp is so loud it causes a few of the various ARC personnel to look over.

“Those look like pterosaur tracks,” he says, “but what kind of pterosaur could do that amount of damage?”

“A lot of small ones, apparently.”

“No pterosaur- no carnivorous pterosaur, at least- that we’ve found in the fossil record even  _ suggests _ that kind of swarming behavior, though,” Nick mutters under his breath. Stephen can hear him, though.

“Pterosaurs don’t fossilize well. It could be possible.”

“Anything is, arguably. Penguins, for example-”

“Nick, I love you, but I’m not going to listen to your conspiracy theories about giant penguins resurfacing in the near future once humanity is gone, with the goal of world domination. I’m just not. I hear about it enough at home.”

* * *

“Alright, so what are we looking at?” Connor asks. Stephen doesn’t know why he’s wearing a windbreaker. There’s no reason for him to need one, after all.

“Rex escaped,” Abby explains, “We’re looking for him right now-”

Stephen loses all confidence in either of them immediately. While Abby and Connor are usually on top of their game, when they make a mistake that large, it means that they’re temporarily cursed with the reality of being normal twenty-somethings, which means they must leave the vicinity immediately before he and Nick are affected by the incompetence.

Abby seems to notice this in his eyes, and backs away. Wise decision. Stephen’s not going to deal with this today.

“We’re on it,” she says, “Don’t worry about it, we’ll take care of it.”

That would normally fill him with confidence in whatever-it-is getting done successfully, but unfortunately, that’s not the case today. He can see it’s the same for Nick, who looks like he needs to down headache medication immediately.

“See to it that you find him, as soon as you can,” Nick orders. Rafael waves a hand from the hill of the golf course. Stephen and Nick make their way to him, wondering what on Earth would make the normally calm man panic and flap his arms up and down like that.

“Have you found the anomaly?” Nick asks.

“Yes, I have. I- you’re just going to have to see it to understand. Look up.”

And there it is, flickering in the sky, barely visible against the blue. If Stephen hadn’t been looking for it, he might not have seen it at all.

“How did you find this?” he asks. Rafael snorts.

“You all were saying the tracks were from pterosaurs. Pterosaurs  _ fly. _ If there were pterosaur tracks, but no dinosaur tracks, it makes sense that the anomaly would be of an aerial nature.”

It sounds so  _ obvious _ when he says it, that both Stephen and Nick flush with embarrassment, but that’s one of the dangers of surrounding oneself with competent people- sometimes, one doesn’t get to be the smartest person in the room.

“Wait, what is-” Sofia barks as she joins them on the hill. Stephen’s eyes widen as he mentally calculates the object in the air’s trajectory, and pushes Nick to the ground, while Rafael falls back and pulls Sofia with him.

The long bill of the immense pterosaur seems to only miss them by inches. Stephen can’t do much beyond stare blankly at the sky, mystified at the largest thing on wings he’s ever seen in his entire life.

“That’s a Pteranodon,” Nick whispers in wonderment, eyes wide, “That- that’s-”

“That’s definitely a Pteranodon,” Stephen agrees.

“I mean, I know that we’re working with time portals-”

“Yeah.”

“And I knew this could technically be possible, since time portals-”

“Yeah.”

“And- Stephen, are you alright?”

Stephen shrugs, and laughs.

“I just saw a Pteranodon,” he replies, “A real, live Pteranodon, from millions of years ago. I think it’s just starting to sink in.”

“Don’t I know the feeling,” Nick laughs in response. Stephen drags his eyes down from the Pteranodon in the sky to his husband in front of him, and kisses the man.

“What was that for?”

“We’re a married pair of biologists, and we just saw a pterosaur. I think that’s a more appropriate celebrative reaction than me picking you up and throwing you like a tennis ball.”

Well. He  _ tries _ to say it. It doesn’t come out that smoothly, of course, because he’s busy being doubled over, laughing.

Of course, the realization hits after just a moment of looking at the Pteranodon, soaring high in the air. It’s a massive pterosaur, too big and solitary to have caused the wounds. It’s like accusing a whale shark of a piranha attack.

“That’s not our culprit,” Stephen says, shaking his finger at the pterosaur wheeling around in the air, turning back- not to face them, but to search, potentially for food, “It’s not got any teeth, and it certainly couldn’t be found in groups large enough to take that much off a body in that amount of time.”

“You’re right on that point, Stephen- Pteranodon ate fish and small reptiles, not large mammals, if there’d been any at the time..”

“Then why is it going after Connor and Abby?” Sofia points out.

“Fuck,” Nick hisses, “Rex.”

“Oh no,” Stephen agrees, “Rex.”

* * *

By the time they find the cloud of small, toothy pterosaurs that look more like large bats than anything else, Stephen’s almost forgotten about Helen. Unfortunately, Helen has not forgotten about them, which means Stephen, still disoriented from the hit he’s taken, has to simply sit and wait, knowing that something’s about to go wrong.

“Talk later, move now,” a voice hisses in his ear, and Stephen tenses, eyes wide. It  _ is _ Helen.

“I need you to trust me for a minute,” she growls. Stephen shakes his head.

“Why should I-”

Helen tosses a metal jug into the microwave, and Stephen  _ runs _ , as fast as he can, shielding the back of his head with his hands when the explosion finally ricochets through the hotel.

He can hear Nick yelling, in the distance, screaming for him.

“What’s all the fuss about?” he asks, wiping grime off of his face. The expression on Nick’s face is something like wonder and relief rolled into one, and when he kisses him, Stephen can tell he’s been crying.

“Don’t you  _ ever _ do that to me again,” Nick rasps, eyes red. Stephen chuckles.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

* * *

“You know, this is going to be a pain to explain to Lester,” Ryan says. In the corner of his eye, Stephen can see Rafael roll his.

“Oh,  _ shut up, _ Tom. How often do you all nearly die, because I can promise you, it is not a common occurrence for us.”

“Rafi,” Stephen calls, “Back off, I’m sure we’ll get used to it.”

“I don’t  _ want _ to get used to it. We nearly died today. I’d rather that not be a common occurrence, my life insurance premiums will go through the  _ roof. _ ”

Stephen chuckles. Connor and Abby, walking back with Rex, look a bit spooked, but generally alright.

“I think we’ve got a visitor that needs to go back home,” he says, indicating where the still-drugged Pteranodon is being kept. Nick snorts.

“Yes, let’s,” he replies. Stephen continues to watch from the ground as the pterosaur makes its way home, and smiles.

“Guess it’s finally sunken in, hmm?” Abby asks. Stephen laughs quietly in reply, never taking his eyes off of Nick and the pterosaur.

“Yes, I guess it has,” he hums, before turning to her with a massive smile on his face, “That’s a  _ Pteranodon.” _

“Yeah!”

“We have the possibility of working with  _ dinosaurs _ in the near future!”

“Hell yeah we do!” Sofia shouts, leapfrogging onto Ryan’s shoulders. The Captain snorts, but bears her weight with ease.

“That’s a time portal! In the sky! Right there!”

“It is,” Rafael notes, “indeed, a time portal in the sky.”

“I fucking love my job!”

“And me!” Nick yells from where he is on the platform.

“And I love my husband!”

* * *

“You think this is going to be an issue?” Stephen asks as they make their way to the anomaly in the biggest warehouse Stephen has ever seen in his entire life.

“I mean, it’s not like either of us have lied to the other about her, so I don’t see why it would be,” Nick replies, ducking under a low-hanging pole. Stephen doesn’t know exactly why they’re going to look at this particular anomaly- nothing’s  _ happened _ yet, they’d just seen an odd magnetic occurence in the area and, when they’d gotten a relatively laid-back call, figured they should check it out. Connor’s been making some noise about figuring out a way to properly track these things, but it’ll take another major breakthrough before they can actually receive coordinates.

The only reason they know the anomaly is  _ here _ in the first place is that one of the soldiers has a partner who works in this particular warehouse and knew to call when his partner remembered to ask if he’d seen anything weird in the area.

“I mean, apparently she’s been popping through every once and a while, and she’s making Lester nervous,” Stephen says, eyes flickering to one of the moving shadows on the wall. Daniels had mentioned it was a relatively inactive anomaly, but it’s still incredibly dark out, and it’s hard to see.

By the time they make it into the warehouse, Stephen realizes just how empty this place is. Daniels had also mentioned their partner had been involved in moving things  _ out _ of this place, but Stephen hadn’t realized it would be just an empty shell of a massive warehouse. Frankly, it looks like an airplane hangar.

Nick flicks on the lights, and the soldiers shut the doors. There’s an odd sound, though, like the rustles of a million sheets of paper at once, a sound Stephen knows, but can’t quite place.

The whole room goes dark, only for a moment, and Stephen blindly reaches to turn on the light again, to turn on the torches, and gestures for the soldiers to do the same.

But the lights are still on, and when the dust settles, and the anomaly winks out of sight, Stephen can’t help himself. He laughs, and laughs, and laughs, staring at thousands of doves with long, long tails. Some of them among them have the red-feathered breasts that signify males, others are a gentle warm grey-brown and remind Stephen quite a bit of Mourning Doves- but there are so  _ many _ of them, and isn’t it a curious thing?

“Are those-” Nick asks, eyes wide. Stephen watches as he comes to the realization of the lack of an anomaly here any longer, and grins wider.

“Pretty sure they are, yeah,” he replies, and leans into Nick’s shoulder, staring up at a thousand or so pigeons, most of whom appear exceedingly confused, “Looks like a breeding flock, too.”

“Oh, how lucky we are,” Nick hums, “How lucky we are.”

“What are we going to do with them?” Stephen asks, “We have to keep them, make sure they’re safe and still capable of reproducing if possible, but we can’t move this many into the new facility, not yet- we’ll have to contact at least a dozen zoos, if not more, especially if the population is this large. And it’s not our fault, either, we’ll have to tell them that, too.”

“Do you think that’s a good idea, though? We don’t know how those zoos would react, and this is a massive discovery, it’s a shout it from the rooftops kind of discovery, it’s not  _ fair _ to ask them to hide it, not at all.”

“They’re going to have to,” Stephen retorts, “There’s no possible way this kind of secret could stay secret if zoos started telling people about them- we have to keep this quiet, at least until we have a way to track, date, and seal off the anomalies- and can you  _ imagine _ the kind of effect this information would have on the illegal pet trade?”

“Well, we can’t just keep them here, there’s too many of them, it would be too crowded, and that would be inhumane,” Ryan points out, sitting with the two scientists on the floor while they all stare up at the pigeons and discuss strategy. Stephen inclines his head to the man, and continues.

“We could just get them to the States and release them there, but that would require extensive protections if we don’t want to squander the gift that Mother Nature has just tossed with force into our laps-”

“COULD SOMEONE  _ PLEASE  _ EXPLAIN TO ME WHAT THE  _ HELL _ IS GOING ON?” Daniels cries. They look like they’re about to pull their hair out.

“Well,” Nick says, “What do you want to know?”

“What are these birds, and why are you so excited about them?” Daniels replies, “I don’t like being the only person in the room not knowing things, and you all didn’t listen the first three times I asked-”

“Charlie,” Ryan replies, “You remember the long rant I went to first day we figured out about time travel? The one I brought up again after the Dodo incident? I want you to take a good, long look at those pigeons.”

“Oh my god.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh my  _ god.” _

“Mhmm.”

“Are those fucking  _ passenger pigeons?” _

One of the females flutters down onto Nick’s shoulder, cooing pleasantly. Nick looks to Charlie with a shark-like grin.   
“I think I can say with some certainty that yes, indeed they are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Four didn't take that long, huh! Looks like I might be actually hitting something of a stride with this fic, which is always good.  
> BUT YEAH!!! YEAH!!! PASSENGER PIGEONS!!! YEAH THEY'RE PASSENGER PIGEONS. OVER THREE THOUSAND PASSENGER PIGEONS. NANCY FROM MARWELL GOES "WHAT THE FUCK, GUYS" and NOBODY QUESTIONS IT.  
> in any case: this is The Mood for Revival of the Fittest, because it's time to do some Reviving.


End file.
